


Personal Drama

by ladygray99



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: F/M, High School, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygray99/pseuds/ladygray99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don finds Charlie where he really shouldn’t be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Drama

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a follow up to a little drabble I did called [ Hawks and Handsaws ](http://ladygray99.livejournal.com/214407.html). It features HighSchool!DonandCharlie. Wouldn’t mind a little feedback.

Don was about to start kicking doors in. There were only three places Charlie was supposed to be. The library, the science lab, or in the bleachers calculating team batting averages.

The school was almost entirely cleared out except for the band and the sports teams. If he lost Charlie, again, his mom was going to kill him. He headed around the back of the school just in case Charlie had ended up in the bottom of a dumpster.

That's when he heard voices coming from the drama department scene shed. It was unlikely Charlie would be hanging out with the theatre weirdoes but it was one last place to look before dumpster diving. He pulled the shed door open and coughed as smoke billowed out.

"Close the door, you're letting everything out," someone said.

Don blinked into the gloom. "Charlie!"

Charlie was sitting in the lap of a plump girl who was wearing too much black and too much purple eye shadow. His head was lying between her not insignificant breasts.

"Hey, Don." Charlie had a soft smile and glazed eyes.

"Charlie, get the hell out of there!"

Charlie blinked at him. "Why?"

"Because they're a bunch of stoners!" Don could hear his own voice squeaking at nearly hysterical levels.

"So? I'm their math tutor." Charlie pointed to the math book the bong was sitting on top of. Everyone in the shed, including Charlie, giggled.

Don took a couple of long steps into the haze. "Mom is going to kill you." He tried to grab Charlie's arm but Charlie yanked it away.

"You're not going to tell mom."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't?"

Charlie leaned forward and did his best to look Don in the eye. "Because I'll tell her about Cindy."

Don froze. Cindy wasn't Cindy in his English class. Cindy was Mrs. Cindy Fredrick, the school's 24 year old French teacher. She had been giving Don extra 'tutoring' every Thursday since the baseball finals junior year. Don didn't even want to think about how Charlie knew. "You wouldn't dare." Don hissed.

Charlie leaned back between a soft looking pair of breasts. "Really want to try me?"

Don didn't. He really didn't. He'd always had a feeling that under all that sweet genius the years of getting picked on had possibly left something hard and cold in Charlie and if Charlie was happy being stoned and cuddling with a drama girl then there was a real possibility he would rat Don out.

"Besides," Charlie continued picking up a joint. "It's medicinal; it makes my headaches go away. You don't want me to have headaches, do you Donnie?"

"Yeah, Donnie," parroted one of the guys. "You don't want him to have headaches."

Don snarled in the direction of the voice hoping a little stoned paranoia would add to the effect then he turned back to Charlie. "Fine, I won't tell." Don held out his hand. "But we really do need to get home. If nothing else I have homework."

Charlie sighed and kissed the girl he'd be leaning against. Don looked away. Charlie got up.

"Can we get ice cream on the way home? I want ice cream."

"I'm sure you do."

"And French fries?"

Don led Charlie out of the den of iniquity. "Whatever you like."

"And one of those hotdogs that get wrapped in pastrami and a tortilla!"

Don's stomach lurched. "Sure, just a second." Don backed up a bit and leaned into the drama shed. "He's better than you lot. Get him stoned again and I'll take a baseball bat to your sets."

Don closed the door and went back to Charlie. "Come on, let's go get ice cream."

"And French fries. I wonder if they can make French fry ice cream?"

Don felt ill. "I don't know, buddy. Let's find out."


End file.
